Shashwati tells a railroad tale:

The last time I was on a train in India was a few years ago, traveling from Baroda to New Delhi, in an unreserved “Ladies” compartment. It was terribly crowded, and I had to share my berth with a rather plump housewife from Karol Bagh…  It turned out she came from a family of fruit merchants, and told us proudly, “My son has married into Apples, my daughter has gone to the Bananas, and we are thinking of a Guava family for the youngest son.”

… Squashed in a corner was a skinny, quiet woman… The woman came from a village in Karnataka… and had been abandoned by her only son and daughter in law. She was going to Delhi in the hope of… perhaps working as a domestic.

The next morning, the plump fruit merchant’s wife, after loudly cursing the world… gave the woman a generous amount of money so that she could fend for herself till she got on her feet. Then the merchants wife farted loudly and left with the youngest son (promised to the Guava family)…

I actually do know a desi fellow who ‘married’ into a family of Apples.